The Best Medicine
by catharticone
Summary: Mother knows best, doesn't she? Ten and Rose are about to find out...
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**: "Doctor Who" is the BBC's property. No infringement is intended. _

_Special thanks to Sonic Jules, who inspired this story and has been a constant source of encouragement._

* * *

It might have been the ship's juddering that awoke her, or perhaps it was the excessive warmth of the duvet she'd pulled up at some point during her nap. Either way, Rose opened her eyes to a bumpy, hot ride.

She pushed away the offending cover then waited for the ship to stabilize before sitting up. Her chest felt a little heavy and tight, and she wondered for a moment if the shaking had left her frightened. She remained very warm, and a fine layer of perspiration glazed her brow. Rose shook it off, getting to her feet and slipping on her shoes before heading to the Console Room.

"What's goin' on?" she asked.

The Doctor was half-way inside an open panel below the console. She could see the glow from the sonic screwdriver. His voice was a bit muffled as he replied, "Little problem with the spatial stabilizer. I need to recalibrate it." He backed out of the small space then lifted his head to offer her a grin. "Feel like a couple of days on a resort planet?"

"What's a resort planet got to do with you fixin' the TARDIS?" she asked reasonably.

"Oh, nothing, really, except that I need to land her somewhere stable so that I can do the repairs. It'll take at least a day, so I reckoned you might want to spend it someplace nice."

Rose rubbed a hand absently over her chest. "Does it matter where we go?"

"No—so long as it's someplace without any rifts or menacing creatures."

"How 'bout London, 2005?" she asked.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I said somewhere _without_ any menacing creatures, Rose."

She took a step forward and poked his arm lightly. "Oi! My mum isn't a menace!"

The Doctor touched his cheek. "Try telling my face that."

Rose sighed rather dramatically. "Think you earned that, anyway," she muttered. Then she gave him her most winning smile. "So, can we go?"

"If that's what you really want, I don't see why not."

She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks, Doctor."

He landed the ship near the playground. Rose was at the door in a moment. The Doctor remained beside the console.

"Aren't you gonna come an' say hello?" she asked.

"Maybe later. I really want to get started on this." He tapped at the open panel. "I'm sure your mum won't mind."

"Probably not," Rose admitted. "Come round for tea?"

"Probably not," the Doctor admitted. "Lots to do here."

"Want me to bring it to you?"

"No thanks. This'll require my undivided attention. So you go off and enjoy your mum, if that's possible, and I'll come get you when I'm finished."

"See you tomorrow," Rose called as she stepped out the door.

"Or the next day," he called back before disappearing beneath the console.

Rose closed the door carefully then leaned against it heavily. In the short amount of time it had taken for the Doctor to bring them to her home, she'd realized that she was coming down with something. She'd had an inkling when she'd given him her request, and she was glad he'd accepted it. Her mum's was the best place to be when she was sick.

* * *

Rose was stationed on the sofa with cushions at her back and a blanket wrapped around her legs. The coughing had started only a couple of hours after she'd got to the flat. She'd try to ignore it, chatting with her mum for a while then calling up a couple of girlfriends to catch up on their lives. But as evening came, she'd begun to feel worse. 

Jackie had been fussing over her ever since she'd admitted to believing she was coming down with a cold. Rose had consumed at least three cups of tea with plenty of lemon and honey, and now a mug of chicken soup sat on the table before her. She wasn't really hungry, and swallowing made her chest ache more. The warmth did soothe her throat, though, so she had a few spoonfuls, but that was all she could manage.

"How're you feelin', sweetheart?" Jackie asked, bustling back into the room with a plate of biscuits.

"Little better," Rose lied. "Soup's helpin', I think."

Her mum set the plate before her. "Travelin' all over the universe—an' all over time. It's a wonder you don't pick up somethin' every week or two." A deep frown crossed her features. "Have you been anyplace dangerous, anywhere with a plague?"

"A plague?" Rose repeated. "No, Mum, nothin' like that."

"You sure?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah. 'S just a cold—probably got exposed last time I was here."

"But that was three months ago!"

"For you. But when we're in the TARDIS, time's different, so it's only been a few days for me."

Jackie shook her head. "I'll never understand that! An' I'll never understand why you wanna go off an' face all those dangers—"

Rose sighed and closed her eyes. In cases like this, it was best to play the sick card. She allowed a cough to escape her, surprised by its strength and the twinge it brought.

"Sweetheart, you all right?" her mother asked with concern. She rested her hand over Rose's forehead. "You feel warm."

"I've got a cold, Mum. I'm sure I am a little warm. But I'll be fine." She began to reposition herself so that she was lying down. "Think I'll have a kip."

Her mother tucked the blankets around her then left Rose to sleep.

* * *

Rose dragged herself from bed the next morning. She'd slept little during the night; her cough had worsened, and it had kept her awake for many hours. Her mum was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. 

"Mornin' sweetheart," she greeted, glancing up from the pan of eggs. She quickly set the spatula aside. "You look terrible!"

Rose ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "Thanks, Mum, tha's always nice to hear."

"Really, darling, how're you feelin'?" She stepped forward to place a hand against her daughter's cheek. "Oh, you've definitely got a fever."

"'S not so bad," Rose began to reply, but her words were interrupted by a short coughing fit. She sank down into the nearest chair.

"I think I should get the Doctor," Jackie said. "He's gone an' exposed you to some horrible alien illness; I jus' know he has."

Rose shook her head. "Don't bother him, Mum. He's workin' on the TARDIS, an' it's delicate. He needs to concentrate on that."

"But you're sick! Maybe there's somethin' he can do—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "'Course it's not like he's a proper doctor anyway."

"I'm okay," Rose asserted. "'S just a cold. D'you have any orange juice?"

Jackie seemed about to protest, but she relented and opened the refrigerator. Rose took a shaky breath and attempted to suppress the cough threatening to erupt from her chest.

Three glasses of orange juice and two cups of tea did nothing to assuage Rose's cough and the low-grade fever that kept her achy and uncomfortable. She'd returned to the couch, where she'd curled up in front of the telly. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was on the verge of sleep. However, another round of coughing interrupted her efforts at slumber.

Jackie's voice further thwarted her intentions. "That's it, Rose," she said firmly, entering the room a minute or two later. "I've called the doctor, an' he can see you in half an hour."

Rose opened her eyes. "I told you not to do that!"

Jackie appeared confused for a moment, then replied, "No, Rose, not _the Doctor_. I called Dr. Bellingham—told him you'd been travelin' to some exotic locations an' might've picked up somethin'. He said he'd get you in straightaway."

"Mum, really, I'm fine," she tried to object, but naturally her body betrayed her, and she coughed raggedly again.

* * *

The afternoon saw Rose tucked back into bed, a bottle of strong cough syrup and a packet of antibiotics on her bedside table. Jackie's dire diagnosis had, of course, been completely ridiculous; her daughter was suffering from nothing more exotic than a bout of bronchitis. Dr. Bellingham had assured them both that a few days of rest and medication would resolve the problem. 

The cough syrup helped considerably, and Rose had a good, long nap. She awoke just before dusk feeling much better. She could hear her mother preparing tea; the whistle of the kettle was a familiar sound. So was the Doctor's voice.

Rose sat up quickly. The Doctor's voice? She hadn't expected to hear that. She got out of bed and walked toward the kitchen.

"She's fine," Jackie was saying, obviously trying to infuse deep conviction into her voice. "But she's finally fallen asleep, an' you're not gonna disturb her."

"I should have a look at her," the Doctor replied, his voice equally resolute.

"Doctor," Rose croaked, entering the kitchen, "what're you doin' here?"

His eyes widened slightly when he saw her. "Blimey Rose! You look awful! What's the matter?"

She rolled her eyes and rasped, "Why's everyone have to say how horrible I look? That doesn't help!"

He moved to stand before her in one long stride. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes as he pressed his other hand against her cheek. "She's running a fever," he said to Jackie.

"Yeah, she knows," Rose replied rather huffily.

"She's gonna be fine," Jackie said firmly. "I took her to the doctor, an' he's given her some medicine."

"Doctor? What doctor?" the Time Lord asked. "And what sort of medicine? Oh, don't tell me it's your archaic form of antibiotics…those'll take ages to work."

Jackie reached for his arm and tugged him away from Rose's side. "She needs her rest, so I'll thank you to go back to your ship an' your tinkerin', and leave her in peace an' quiet for a day or two." She was shoving him toward the doorway as she spoke.

He caught the doorjamb with his hand and stood firmly against her formidable efforts. "I should have a proper look at her. Let me take her back to the TARDIS—"

Jackie's arms crossed over her bosom. "Absolutely not! She's stayin' right here, with her mum an' her medicine."

"At least let me see what sort of primitive glop she's been given."

Jackie shook her head and uncrossed one arm to point at the door. "Out. Now."

Rose's voice was very husky, but she managed to croak out, "I'm fine, Doctor. You still workin' on the TARDIS?"

He nodded. "It's going to take another day or so. I just came up to tell you that—and then your mother tells me that you're sick, and she won't even let me see you—"

"'S okay," Rose assured him, albeit very raspily. "You jus' go back to the ship an' finish up. 'M feelin' better already."

He peered around Jackie. "You sure, Rose?"

She nodded. "By the time you're done, I'll be back to my old self."

Reluctantly he have a small nod of acquiescence. "But you know where I am. If you need anything—"

Jackie took a step forward, and the Doctor stepped back in time. "She won't," the older woman said firmly. "At least not from you."

"I'll check in on you tomorrow," the Time Lord said.

"Thanks, Doctor." Rose managed to wait until Jackie had closed—not slammed, just closed very securely—the door behind him before she permitted the cough to erupt from her chest.

"Oh sweetheart," Jackie admonished gently, "you need more of that cough syrup! Come on," she returned to the kitchen and took her daughter's arm, "back to bed with you."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn't liked leaving her with Jackie; he hadn't liked it at all. But the older woman was a force to be reckoned with. Of course, if he'd truly been concerned about Rose, he wouldn't have backed down. No, that wasn't the right term; Time Lords didn't back down from forty-year-old, frowsy human women. He did it for Rose. That was it, of course; he hadn't wanted to upset her, and so he'd done _her _bidding, not her mother's.

Rose had looked fairly dreadful, but perhaps it was more an effect of the mussed hair and puffy eyes. She'd been sleeping, he reminded himself, so naturally she wouldn't have been at her best. Still, he'd noted the slight flush of her cheeks indicative of fever the moment he'd seen her, and he'd immediately sensed that her temperature was 99.7 the instant he'd placed his palm against her skin. That wasn't dangerous for a human, but he knew it was less than comfortable. Her eyes had seemed rather glassy, too.

He probably should've insisted that Jackie permit him to have a proper look at her daughter. But at least the older woman had had the sense to take Rose to a physician, albeit it an early-twentieth-century, Terran one whose knowledge, skills, and medications were far, far inferior to his own… But for a cold or even flu, he supposed someone with basic qualifications was adequate.

He kept Rose in his thoughts as he continued working on the TARDIS, but after a while the intricate calibrations consumed most of his mind, so ruminations about his young companion were temporarily set aside.

* * *

Jackie's thoughts, however, focused upon nothing but Rose. Her daughter was still coughing, still awake and uncomfortable after her last dose of cough suppressant. So Jackie made a motherly decision and marched resolutely into the room.

"Sweetheart," she said gently, taking the bottle from the night table, "I'm going to give you a little more of this. You've gotta get some sleep, an' I think the dose the doctor prescribed wasn't quite enough."

Rose coughed in response. She was pale and sweaty with dark shadows beneath her large eyes. "You… sure?" she hacked.

"'Course. 'S jus' a little more. Open up."

Rose complied, and Jackie slid the spoon into her mouth. "There we are, love, that should do the trick. I think you'll sleep jus' fine now."

Rose nodded weakly. "Thanks, Mum." She closed her eyes wearily.

* * *

As the Doctor reconnected a pink wire, his thoughts returned to Rose. How long had it been since he'd seen her? He thought back: six or seven hours. He glanced at the door to see that it was dark out. He was nearly done with his work, so he decided immediately that he would go up the flat again. Perhaps he'd be lucky and Jackie would be sleeping. Then he could just pop in and have a look at Rose, be sure she was doing well and be out before her mother had any inkling that she'd had a midnight visitor.

He walked quietly up to the flat and stood at the door listening for a moment. Assured that he could slip in, he unlocked the door with the sonic screwdriver then stepped inside. A single lamp was on in the living room, leaving most of the flat dim. His eyes moved to Rose's door.

To his surprise, it was open, and the light was on. Jackie's door, however, was closed, and her room appeared dark. Thankfully, it seemed that she was sleeping. He began to walk toward Rose's room.

A noise in the kitchen stopped him in his tracks. Something thudded, then there was a dull crash and a shattering sound, accompanied by a little gasp. Quickly he went to investigate. The refrigerator door was open, illuminating the room minimally. Still, it was enough for him to see Rose standing at the counter and the jug of juice lying at her feet.

He switched on the light, and she slowly lifted her head, blinking at him in confusion. "Wanted juice," she said, pointing languidly at the container. Orange liquid had pooled around her feet, leaving her bare toes wet. Shards of glass lay scattered on the countertop. She took a tottering step back, grabbing the counter to support herself.

"Rose, no—" the Doctor began, but he was too late. He saw her hand press over a piece of glass.

"Doctor?" She squinted at him then smiled. "Nice dream."

He slid an arm around her shoulders and eased her away from the counter then down into a chair. He lifted her hand; blood was already dripping from her palm.

"Ooh, wha's that?" she asked sluggishly. She blinked several times. "T'mato juice. Wanted orange." She nudged his foot with her own. "Hey, where'd you put m' orange juice?"

The Doctor reached for a dish towel and pressed it over her palm. "You've cut yourself," he told her. She wriggled, trying to pull her hand away. "Stay still," he admonished benignly.

She frowned. "Gotta get you your banana." She tried to stand, listing dangerously to one side before he guided her down again. She giggled. "'Nana split? You wanna 'nana split? Or a milkshake? Nice 'nana shake, yeah, tha's what 'm gonna make for you."

His eyes scanned the floor for evidence of glass, but all he saw was the puddle of orange juice. He returned his attention to her hand. A little blood had seeped through the towel, but it wasn't too much. He didn't think the cut was terribly deep. Still, he set her hand gently upon the table.

"Leave your hand here," he said with kind firmness. "Keep it elevated."

"Elevated?" she repeated, voice somewhat slurred. "'S no el'vator here, silly!" She giggled again. "'Member that el'vator at the hospital—th' one with the cat nuns? Cat nuns!" She laughed. "Weren't very fuzzy or nice, though." A frown creased her brow. "An' that C'sandra—right bitch she was, tryin' to take over m' body. But she kissed you—she made me kiss you." Rose smiled dreamily. "Nice kiss, wasn't it?" Her uninjured hand reached up to stroke his cheek, but her aim was off, and she poked a finger at his eye instead.

"Ow!" He flinched back a bit.

"Ooh, Doct'r, did I hur' you?" she slurred, trying to touch his face again.

He caught her hand in his. "Rose, just stay still. Please." He made his tone as stern as possible while still maintaining a bit of warmth and affection.

"'Kay," she whispered. "Di'n't mean t' make y' mad."

He took her arms gently. "I'm not mad, Rose. But I do need you to be still so that I can have a look at you. Can you do that for me?"

She smiled. "Anythin' for you."

He sat before her, releasing her arms so that he could lift her chin and study her eyes. Her pupils were unnaturally dilated in the light. He was afraid that her fever had soared, leaving her delirious. However, when he rested his palm against her brow he found that her temperature was only slightly above normal and lower than it had been before.

"What the hell's goin' on?"

Jackie's strident voice made the Doctor jerk. "Good question," he retorted. "You tell me."

Jackie was at her daughter's side immediately, fussing at the towel wrapped around her hand. "What happened? How'd she get hurt?"

"She was trying to get some juice, apparently," he replied, eyes flicking to the spilled carton and broken glass.

"Oh! I didn't even know she was up—she was sleepin' last I checked, an' that was only a little over an hour ago. I must've drifted off—didn't mean to," Jackie nattered. "Sweetheart, why didn't you call me? I'd of got your juice for you. An' now look what you've gone an' done."

Rose's eyelids had lowered partially, and she didn't respond to her mother. The Doctor was watching the younger Tyler carefully and noted the change in alertness. He pressed his fingers over her wrist to find her pulse uncharacteristically slow. Something was depressing her autonomic nervous system…

"Jackie!" he said suddenly. "What have you been giving her?"

"Just her medicine: antibiotics every eight hours, cough syrup every four."

"Cough syrup—you lot put codeine in that, right?"

"S'pose so. It's what the doctor prescribed for her."

"The _doctor,_ right," he snorted rather derisively. "How much did you give her?"

"What he said—an' one extra spoonful, jus' to help with the coughin', because the dose he said wasn't really doin' it."

"Bring me the bottle." This wasn't a request.

Jackie huffed but complied, wisely realizing that her daughter's needs were more important than her sense of control. The Doctor lifted one of Rose's eyelids to study her reaction to light. He wasn't entirely pleased with the result. She appeared half-asleep, barely stirring when he touched her eye.

"Rose," he said firmly. "Can you hear me?"

"Mmm," she responded. She began to slump forward to lean against his shoulder. After wrapping an arm around her, he reached for another towel to wipe some of the juice from her feet.

Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward her room, intercepting Jackie half-way.

"What're you doin'?" the alarmed mother asked.

"What's it look like?" he snapped back. He was certain that Jackie was to blame for Rose's condition. Obviously she'd given her daughter considerably more cough syrup than prescribed.

He pushed past the older woman to settle Rose upon her bed. Then he turned back to Jackie and held out his hand. "Give me the bottle."

She did. He lifted it to study the contents. "This is two-thirds empty!"

Jackie blinked at him. "No, that can't be. I gave her one spoonful when we got back from the chemist's, then another about three hours ago, just as the doctor said, an one more a bit after. That's all."

"Just how large a spoon did you use?" he asked accusatorily.

She pointed at the teaspoon on the night table. He noticed that her hand shook slightly.

His eyes flicked back to Rose's face. Her features had grown slack. "Then how did it…"

His gaze lowered to the top of her loose pink t-shirt. Three small maroon spots stained her chest. "Oh Rose," he began.

Jackie saw the evidence, too. "Sweetheart! You didn't…"

"Obviously she did," he replied shortly. He checked her pulse again; it was unchanged.

"Is she all right?" the anxious mother asked.

"Does she look like she's all right?" he rejoined.

"No—she's…" Jackie's voice caught.

The Time Lord glanced up at her. She was utterly distraught. "Jackie," he said, forcing a gentler tone into his voice, "it's not that bad. She should be all right. But I need to keep a close eye on her for the next little while. And we need to be sure she doesn't take any more of that." His gaze moved to the bottle for just an instant.

Jackie purposefully walked out of the room to leave the cough suppressant somewhere else. The Doctor unwound the towel from Rose's hand and used the end to wipe away the blood. He examined the cut to find that, as he'd suspected, it wasn't deep enough to require sutures. Still, a bit of dermal glue wouldn't be amiss… He could return to the TARDIS for some, but that would have to wait until he was certain that his favorite Tyler was all right.

Jackie returned shortly, hovering at the bedside. "What can I do? Does she need coffee? Tea?"

"Not right now, though some water would be a good idea to begin flushing out her system."

"'Course. I'll get it."

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked as she began to scurry away.

"Yeah, 'course. I'll bring that, too."

The Doctor rested his hand lightly over Rose's chest to assess her respiration rate. It was on the slow side but not dangerously so. He could hear a little raspiness in her breathing, however, and that did concern him. His hand dipped into his pocket to retrieve the stethoscope he'd used while fixing the console; it was a handy tool for listening for slight variations in the ship's rhythm. He adjusted it in his ears and slid his hand down inside Rose's shirt.

"Oi!" Jackie's voice nearly made him jump again. "Jus' what the hell d' you think you're doin'?"

He looked up to see her gaze fixed on the hand inside her daughter's t-shirt. His back was partially to the elder Tyler, so she couldn't see what he was doing. He turned so that she could see the instrument in his ears, keeping his temper at bay. Really, though, it was terribly tedious that she didn't trust him. What else would he be doing with his hand down Rose's shirt?

"Just checking her lungs," he replied after a moment. "She's got bronchitis."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, doctor already told us that." But her expression softened to one more reflective of concern. "How's it sound? It's not too serious, is it?"

He waggled a finger at her to signal that he needed a respite from her chatter. He carefully pulled Rose up into a sitting position. Her mother quickly moved to support her while the Time Lord slipped the stethoscope up under the back of her shirt. He listened very carefully then eased her back down.

"Well?" Now Jackie's tone was more demanding.

"You sure you want my opinion?"

"'Course I do!"

"Hmm. That's a change," he humphed.

Somewhat contrite, Jackie said, "I can see you know what you're doin'. You knew right away she had bronchitis…"

"I'm going to get her some decent antibiotics in a while—the kind that work in a few hours rather than a few days—and the bronchitis'll clear right up. For the moment, it's not terribly serious."

Jackie held out the glass of water she'd brought, and the Doctor lifted Rose's head to hold the cup to her lips. She swallowed a few sips, seeming to rouse slightly.

"I brought the first aid kit, too," the older woman said.

The Time Lord nodded in reply. "Cut's not too deep."

Jackie seemed relieved to hear that. She opened the kit and began rummaging about inside. Paper crinkled and bottles clinked, and the Doctor found the entire process quite annoying.

"Do you have any herbal tea?" he asked, "without caffeine?"

Jackie stopped her delving for a moment. "Sure. I've got chamomile an' some ginger stuff that Mickey used t'like when he'd eaten too much pizza."

"Chamomile," he said succinctly.

Jackie took the hint and left the room. The Doctor searched the first aid kit and quickly found what he needed. He took Rose's hand and carefully wiped antiseptic over the ragged cut.

"Mmm," Rose mumbled, trying to pull her hand away from the sting.

"It's all right," the Doctor said gently. "You cut your hand. I'm just sorting it."

She opened her eyes to stare rather dazedly at him. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose." He placed a square of guaze over the cut then began wrapping it.

"How'd I get in bed?" she asked. "Did I dream that I was in the kitchen?"

"No, that was real. You said you wanted some orange juice, but you dropped the glass and cut your hand."

"Don't remember… comin' back in here," she murmured sleepily.

"I carried you," he informed her.

She smiled. "Wish I remembered… that."

He finished wrapping her hand. "There we are. Does it hurt much?"

She shook her head slowly. "Can hardly feel… a thing."

"That would be from the cough syrup. You overdid it a little, Rose."

She frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

"I think the recommended dose is a teaspoon every four hours, not four teaspoons every one hour," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

Her mouth formed a perfect little _O_. "Didn't mean to…"

"I know. It shouldn't have been left here—"

"Was jus' that I couldn't sleep… kept coughin', an' it hurt…" She rubbed a hand over her chest.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked with concern.

"A little—" A cough interrupted her. She pressed her hand against her sternum, wincing with the effort.

"Here, Rose, roll over onto your side." He eased her over then rubbed her back with small, soothing strokes. "Better?" he asked after a minute or so.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He stilled his hand, increasing the pressure just a bit so that he could clearly feel her heart beat. It was marginally faster and steadier than it had been in the kitchen. Still, she wasn't quite past the effects of her mild overdose. She remained hot and feverish, too.

He went to the bathroom and brought back two washcloths, one warm and the other cool. He wiped the latter over her face then used the warmer one to remove the sticky traces of orange juice from her feet. That done, he pulled the blanket over her and pressed the cold cloth against her brow again.

"How's that feel?" he asked softly.

"Better," Rose sighed. "You make everything better."

* * *

_To be concluded…_


	3. Chapter 3

Jackie stood in the doorway, steaming mug in her hand, watching the Doctor as he bathed her daughter's feet then tenderly ran a cool flannel over her cheeks and forehead. He was absorbed in his task and didn't register her presence. His expression reflected concern and affection; she recognized the look as one that had crossed her face countless times as she'd cared for her daughter's minor illnesses over the years.

The man was still an utter mystery to her—the way he'd changed his entire face and body; the way he could travel through space and time; the way he'd captivated Rose's heart and mind completely. But one thing was absolutely clear to her: He loved her daughter.

Jackie watched for another minute as the Doctor set aside the flannel and smoothed a stray strand of hair away from Rose's cheek. His hand rested softly against her skin, and she knew he wasn't merely checking her girl's fever.

The elder Tyler cleared her throat and stepped into the room. "Here's the tea," she said briskly. She set the mug on the night table. "'S still a little hot. Better wait a minute to give it to her."

The Time Lord looked up at Rose's mother. "Thanks, Jackie. Stay if you want—"

"No, Doctor, I've things to do—need to make another pot of chicken soup for one. Besides, I know she's in good hands."

She left the room, and any doubts about his affection and commitment to her daughter, behind.

* * *

After another hour, Rose showed few effects from the narcotic she'd taken. Her bronchitis, however, seemed worse; the Doctor could hear the raspiness with each breath she took.

He listened to her lungs again, and his expression must have alerted Jackie to his concerns. The older woman had returned after she'd put the soup on. Rose had been dozing on and off, her mother chatting quietly with her when she was awake. For his part, the Doctor had even managed some random yet civil conversation with Jackie.

She gave him a questioning, concerned look as he tucked the stethoscope back into his pocket. Rose was drowsy again, half-asleep, and had barely noticed his actions. He stood and beckoned for Jackie to follow him out of the room.

"I'll be right back, Rose," he said with a small caress to her cheek.

"Me too, sweetheart," Jackie added. "I'm just gonna check the soup."

Once outside the bedroom, he said in a low voice, "I want to get her started on those antiobiotics right away; the bronchitis isn't resolving at all."

"Do you have to take her back to the TARDIS?" Jackie asked, disappointment evident in her expression and tone.

He'd planned to do just that, but he supposed he could bring the necessary supplies here. If Rose didn't improve quickly, he could have her in the ship's infirmary within ten minutes.

"It's jus' that I think she'd prefer bein' in her own bed when she's sick," Jackie added. She didn't sound superior or possessive; she merely sounded honest and a little wistful.

The Doctor nodded. "That should be fine. I'll just run over to the ship and get what I need. Be back in ten minutes."

He hurried away, trusting Rose to her mother for the moment. When he returned, Jackie was back at Rose's side. She'd placed another cool cloth over the daughter's forehead.

"Fever's up, I think," she informed him softly.

He pressed a palm over Rose's cheek. "Yes."

Jackie moved away so that he could sit by his companion's side. Rose stirred and opened her eyes.

"Hi," she said sleepily, offering him a small smile.

"Hello," he replied cheerily. "I've brought something to help you feel better."

He removed a small pressure hypo from his pocket and took her arm. He injected the contents swiftly. She flinched slightly but didn't protest or even frown.

"Wha's that?" she asked.

"Antiobiotic boost; it'll begin clearing up the bronchitis in just a couple of hours. And this," he held up a small patch he'd pulled from another pocket and removed the outer cover, "is a timed-release derm that'll deliver a nice, steady dose of antibiotics over the next day to take care of those nasty bacteria once and for all." He secured it gently over her wrist.

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but a substantial bout of coughing came out instead, wracking her entire body. She was left gasping for air as the coughs exploded from her chest.

Quickly the Doctor pulled her up into a sitting position, ignoring her wince of pain for the moment. His hand dipped into his pocket to produce a small tubular device resembling an inhaler. Rose seemed to grasp its intent as he lifted it toward her, and she tried to stop gasping.

"This'll work in just a couple of seconds," he told her, keeping his voice calm. He administered a puff into her open mouth. "Inhale."

She complied, although the breath she took was shaky at best. Still, it was sufficient to deliver the medication to its traget, and almost immediately she began to breathe more easily as the coughing subsided.

The Time Lord set the inhaler on the night table then reached for his stethoscope again. Rose was alert now, and her cheeks colored a bit as he slipped his hand down her shirt.

"Deep breath," he requested.

She inhaled, and he smiled as he heard the improvement in her lungs. "Much better," he informed her.

Rose seemed to forget her mild embarrassement as she smiled back at him. "Breathin' feels much better, too. Thanks."

"Give it a couple more hours, and you'll be good as new." He tucked the stethoscope back into his pocket then looked up at her again.

"You've been takin' care of me," she said softly.

He nodded. "Your mother has, too."

"Yeah, 'course," Rose said, looking over at Jackie, who had remained surprisingly quiet.

"Thanks to both of you, then."

"I'm your mother," Jackie said softly. "You know you don't have t'thank me."

Rose grasped both her mother's and the Doctor's hands. "Yeah, I do."

The Doctor understood that the gratitude was for more than his ministrations. But that was bordering on domestic, and such thoughts wouldn't do at all. So he stood up and lifted her blanket.

"You should get some proper sleep now," he said.

Rose nodded and settled back against the pillows. He tucked the covers around her. Jackie kissed her forehead, then said to the Doctor, "Come on, you, I'll make a pot of tea."

He followed her out of the room as Rose closed her eyes with a contented sigh.

* * *

The Doctor sat at the table while Jackie prepared the tea. When she'd finished and set the pot before him, she sank down into her chair. She was flushed, and her cheeks shone with perspiration, and he wondered for just a moment how hot she'd made the water.

And then she coughed.

"Jackie?" he asked, lifting a suspicious eyebrow.

"'S nothin'," she replied quickly with a dismissive wave of her hand.

But he knew better. Hell, he should've known better with Rose. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He leaned forward to press his palm over Jackie's forehead.

"You've got a fever," he informed her.

"No, 's jus' that I'm warm from makin' the tea—" she began to protest, but another cough interrupted her.

The Doctor pulled the stethoscope from his pocket and scooted his chair forward so that he was right in front of her.

Jackie's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Oh no, I'm fine. An' even if I'm not, I'll go to my own doctor, thank you."

"Right. And he'll give you slow-acting antibiotics and cough syrup that'll put you into a coma if you aren't careful. While I—Rose's Doctor—can nip this in the bud with a single dose of medication. But I suppose it's your choice, really."

Jackie's lips pursed in thought, and her brows pulled together. She glanced at the stethoscope in his hand then rubbed at her chest. "One dose? Really?"

"Yep. At this point, that's all it'll take. You'll be right as rain in a couple of hours."

She moved her hand to unzip her velour hoodie just an inch or so, then she dropped her hand to her side. The Doctor watched her with amusement, trying not to smile too broadly.

"Well?" she said rather stridently. "What're you waitin' for? Get on it with then!"

Suppressing his grin, he grasped her zipper and pulled it down just a bit further then slid his hand inside her shirt. Really, he didn't need to listen for more than a few seconds to confirm that she'd picked up the same illness as Rose had. But it was just too much fun watching Jackie's cheeks flush even more deeply as he moved his hand about over her chest and back while locking a completely professional expression upon his face.

Finally he pulled back and gave her his most serious look. "Well Jackie," he began somberly.

"What? What is it?" she asked with wide eyes.

He'd been about to chuckle at the irony of it all, but her expression was so grave that he kept himself in check. "Bronchitis, just like Rose. But don't worry; you really will be fine in no time. I'll just pop back over to the TARDIS for another dose of antibiotics—be back in ten minutes."

He hopped to his feet as Jackie tugged the zipper back up as far as it would go and then some. "Right. That's good then."

He took her arm and gently pulled her to her feet. "Why don't you get into bed. I'll bring the medication and your tea in when I get back."

Jackie coughed rather miserably. "I'll be all right, Doctor. I won't need you takin' care of me—"

"Oh!" he interjected quickly, "believe me, Jackie, I have no intention of taking care of you. Besides, you won't need it with my medicine. But for the moment, bed's the best place for you."

She wiped a hand over her damp brow. "S'pose you're right after all." She shuffled off to her room.

The Doctor hurried to the front door and stepped outside. He took a few moments to chuckle at Jackie; the look on her face as he'd unzipped her shirt was utterly priceless. He could hardly wait to tell Rose…

Then his expression sobered. Rose had been ill; she'd suffered for hours unnecessarily. He could have cured her quickly and prevented almost all of her discomfort. He would be more careful in the future. Although, if he had to admit it to himself, he had rather enjoyed taking care of her. Oh, he'd hated to see her so uncomfortable, and he'd even been a bit worried in those first few minutes when he'd realized she'd overdosed on the cough suppressant. But watching over her, comforting her with a touch or a cool cloth, had given him a sense of purpose and connection. He hadn't felt those things in a very long time.

From inside, he heard Jackie's hacking cough. She was growing worse quickly. He spurred himself into action. Taking care of Rose was one thing; looking after her mother was quite another.

He ran to the TARDIS as fast as he could.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
